


Moving Pieces

by JeannetteRankin



Category: Leverage
Genre: F/M, Friends With Benefits, Getting Together, Humor, Multi, OT3, Porn with Feelings, Team as Family, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-08
Updated: 2017-12-23
Packaged: 2019-02-12 00:11:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12947082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JeannetteRankin/pseuds/JeannetteRankin
Summary: When Parker tries her hand at sex and romance, things are bound to go awry.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this in the Fall of 2015, but never posted it. (Why?) When I binged Leverage I fell in love with this ot3 and had to write something for it. This first part is pretty tame, but the second part will earn the rating and tags.

“I did what you said,” comes a voice from above.

It's not the first time Sophie has come home and turned on the lights in her townhouse to find Parker lurking. It still makes her jump. This time Parker's perched on the top of Sophie's media center, legs dangling, waiting.

After clearing her throat and placing a hand to her chest where her heart is fluttering, Sophie manages to ask in a calm voice, “You talked to Hardison?”

“Yeah,” Parker tells her, but instead of a having a happy glow, her face is pensive.

“And how did it go?” she asks, stepping out of her Louboutins. It says something about her life that she's become accustom to these evenings of coming home to find a world-class thief has broken into home for a chat. It probably says something about _her_ that not only does she not mind, she's come to find it actually rather nice.

“It went okay, I think. He didn't say anything bad. I think he's okay with it.” When talking about security systems, or analyzing the finer points of a break-in plan, Parker can go on at great length, giving every detail. When she's talking about people, however, it tends to be like pulling teeth to get the important things out of her.

“Does he feels the same about you?”

“I think so,” she says, and now there's a little smile around her mouth that Parker usually only gets when contemplating theft or mayhem.

“Well, that's splendid,” Sophie tells her warmly, removing her earrings and moving into the kitchen. Parker and Hardison have been dancing around each other for months, and they would make such a sweet couple—in their way.

Parker kicks her feet against the mahogany of the shelves she's perched on, making a little _thump thump_ sound. “So, what do I do now?”

“What do you mean?” Sophie asks, glancing through the mail that Parker must have left on the counter for her.

“Well,” Parker says, looking as if she's concentrating hard. “I like him. And he likes me, probably. So, what do we do now? What's the plan?”

“Romance is different for every couple. There are plenty of things you could try. Spend more time with him,” she suggests.

“We already work together.”

“I mean _alone_ with him. Just the two of you.” Sophie takes down a wineglass from the hanging rack. If she's going to be dispensing relationship advice, she's going to have a glass of wine.

“What else?” Parker asks, and Sophie notices she's produced a small notebook from somewhere and is actually taking notes.

“Tell him things about yourself. Disclosure of personal information invites reciprocity and creates a sense of intimacy. Also, you want to make it clear to him that he's important to you. Take an interest in the things he cares about. If he does the same things back, that's a good sign.” A thought passes through Sophie's mind that the one she should really be giving this advice to is Nate. Not that the man would ever listen.

Parker chews on her lip, like there's something else she wants to ask. Sophie uncorks the wine bottle and says nothing. Sometimes, with Parker, you just have to be patient.

She pours a glass and takes a sip of the Merlot and debates with herself whether she should order food, or heat up the container of that delicious Fasolada that she winkled out of Eliot the day before. He hardly ever agrees to cook for her, but he always leaves himself vulnerable to being conned out of the results of his cooking, which is practically the same thing.

“Should I have sex with him?”

Sophie counts it as a point of pride that she does not sputter on the sip of wine she's taking. It's a testament to her acting skills and aplomb—as well as three years of navigating conversations with Parker—that she's able to calmly set her wine glass down before responding. “That's up to you, and to him. If you both want to, you can, but if you're not sure, there's no harm in waiting a little while. And don't sleep with him just because you think he wants to. There has to be desire on both sides.”

Sophie waits again as Parker mulls this over.

“Should I stop having sex with Eliot?”

Sophie's violent coughing fit sprays wine across the kitchen counter in a very undignified manner.

*

Sophie Devereaux is usually cooly intimidating. It's sort of her default state of being, and Eliot is half-convinced that she wakes up like that, ready to crush an enemy's ego or charm someone out of their most closely-guarded secrets before she's even had her morning cup of tea. Sure, Eliot has been her teammate long enough by now to see her in various less-scary states; he's seen her flustered, vulnerable, and even—on a few occasions that he never wants to repeat—frightened herself. But he never for one second forgets that she can be absolutely terrifying.

So he really shouldn't need the reminder. But he's still taken by surprise one afternoon when she springs her trap.

The two of them are alone, sifting through background documents for their next job. “Coffee?” she asks from the kitchen, holding up the pot.

“Yeah, please,” he responds automatically, mind on the travel records he's examining. Papers and folders are covering almost every inch of the huge work table. He and Sophie have been spending hours together going over every detail, most of it in companionable silence. It's the kind of quiet, methodical work that Eliot enjoys, and Sophie has been suspiciously good company throughout, hardly ever breaking his concentration. It's probably why he doesn't see the trap coming.

“So, how long have you been sleeping with Parker?” Sophie asks, casually, as she hands him the cup.

He does _not_ drop the coffee. Unfortunately he can't not drop the cup and also come up with a plausible denial in the same breath. “Uhh,” is all he manages to get out.

“Eliot!” she exclaims, obviously taking his hesitation for confirmation. Her face goes stormy and she smacks him on the arm, scowling. “How could you?”

“What are you mad at me for?” He hates that she can make him feel like a kid caught with their hand in the cookie jar, especially when he hasn't even done anything wrong.

“I know you don't think twice about sleeping with anything with a pair of breasts that wanders your way. But this is a whole other level of rakish behavior. That you would take advantage of an inexperienced young woman—”

“Whoa, whoa,” he snarls, feeling his own temper rising. “What do you take me for? I don't take advantage of people, alright? I'm not that kind of man.”

Sophie looks a little abashed, which was as close as he's likely get to an apology for what she just implied.

“Look,” he says, “it was Parker's idea, okay? We both knew what we were doing. There was no taking advantage. Despite what you and Nate might think, she's a grown woman.”

“Yes, but that doesn't mean she can't get hurt. I don't want to her to get her heart broken.” Sophie's worried expression makes him soften, a little. Sometimes he feels like he's the only one looking out for Parker, and Lord knows he can use all the help he can get.

“It's not like that. It's just a casual thing between two friends, from time to time. Nothin' wrong with two consenting adults having a little fun on their day off, is there?”

“Hmph.” She crosses her arms, still frowning a little, but seeming close to placated.

“No call for you getting mad anyway. The whole thing was all your fault.”

“...I beg your pardon.”

  


*

There's a knock on the door, and Eliot takes a second to grab the machete he keeps in the umbrella stand on his way to open it.

“Who's there?” he calls out in a neutral tone. No one has this address. Hardison has been getting more and more annoying about letting him cover all their digital tracks since the Blackpoole job went down. The only person who has Eliot's real address these days is Hardison, and by extension, the team. But none of them are in the habit of dropping in to socialize.

Worst case scenario, someone with a grudge has tracked him down. Best case, it's a pretty neighbor looking to borrow a cup of sugar. He grips the machete tight and edges up to the side of the door.

“It's me,” comes a familiar voice.

“Parker?” he asks, opening the door, peering at her for any sign that she's being held hostage or threatened in some way. “Since when do you use the door?” There's a little nervousness around her eyes, but other than that, she seems normal.

“Can I come in?” She's not making any of their hand signals that he made the team memorize for when verbal communication was too dangerous. Three fingers over the thumb on the right hand mean 'I'm being coerced', but Parker's hands are at her sides, thumbs tucked into pockets. He makes a preliminary assessment that she's probably not being forced to use the door like a normal person by any immediate threat.

“Sure,” he stands aside to let her pass, and returns the machete to the umbrella stand. She walks in as usual, like the space is hers to explore and the concepts of boundaries mean nothing to her. First she opens his coat closet and peers inside, then goes to the kitchen and starts rifling through his drawers. He's learned through experience that it's better to let her complete whatever survey she's doing without interference.

“So, what's going on?” he asks. She looks up at him inquisitively from where she's messing up the organization of his flatware. He sighs. “Why are you here?”

“I wanted to ask you something.” She drops his six inch sauce ladle with a clatter and closes the drawer.

“Okay,” he says, warily.

“Will you have sex with me?”

Eliot stares. She stares back. He waits for the other shoe to drop, for her to start laughing at him like she usually does when she manages to pull some obnoxious prank. She doesn't. “You want to have sex,” he states. “With me.”

“Sophie says I should try it,” Parker states, as if that's a perfectly reasonable thing to say and not utterly horrifying.

“Sophie told you to try having sex with me?” He's going to kill her.

“Well, not you specifically. Just sex in general. She was telling me about that professor she's dating, and I said I didn't get what the big deal was about having a boyfriend. She said sex was a big part of it, and maybe I should try it. What do you say?” She concludes, raising her eyebrows at him.

“For fuck's sake. Okay, give me a second.” He tries to reconcile himself to the fact that this conversation is actually happening. He closes his eyes and counts to ten, but when he opens them again, Parker is still standing in his kitchen, watching him, unblinking as a cat. “I can't believe I'm even having this conversation with you, but are you a...you know?”

“What?”

“A virgin?”

Parker seems totally unbothered by the question. “I had sex once, when I was fifteen. I didn't like it.”

“How old was the guy?” Eliot asks, very carefully.

“Seventeen, maybe eighteen. He was a runner for a fence I used to sell to. He was alright, and I knew he wanted to have sex with me, so I decided to try it out.”

“But you didn't like it.”

“It was uncomfortable and I didn't even have an orgasm. So I decided not to do it anymore.”

“You were teenagers, Parker, that's normal.” His own first fumbling attempts with his high school girlfriend had certainly been nothing to write home about.

“That's what Sophie said. She said maybe I just don't like sex, but I shouldn't give up on it until I try it with someone I like and trust.”

Eliot blinks, surprised. “And that's...me?”

“Well, duh. I don't trust anyone besides us. Sophie said no, and I don't like Nate that way, so that leaves you. And Hardison.”

“You asked Sophie—” part of Eliot's brain breaks, he's pretty sure. “You asked Hardison?!” Poor kid, he can't imagine him turning Parker down, he's had a crush on Parker since day one.

“Not yet, I'm going to try him next if you say no.” Thank heaven for small mercies. “But I have the feeling you've had a lot more sex than he has, so you're probably better at it. I'll give him a try if he's my last choice.”

“I'll do it,” Eliot blurts out.

“Really?” her face lights up, which would be touching, except that he saw her look the exact same way last week when he'd been showing her a new garrotting method.

“Yes, okay. Just don't...don't try that little speech on Hardison, okay?” He squeezes his eyes shut at the thought, pinching the bridge of his nose to try and stave off a stress headache.

She scoffs. “You said yes, Silly. I only need one person.”

When he opens his eyes all of her clothing has somehow found its way into a pile at her feet and she's standing there in the middle of his kitchen, naked as the day she was born.

“Damn it.” He's been around naked Parker before, of course, but he's always avoided looking, he's not _rude_. Now, he supposes, is the time for it, as his eyes trace from her strong, shapely shoulders down the supple pale skin of her torso, lingering on her small, pert—

*

“Alright, alright!” Sophie protests, holding up one hand to stop his story.

Eliot clears his throat. “So that's how it started. You're the one who gave her the idea to ambush me, so if you're mad at anyone, it can be yourself.”

“That wasn't what I meant. I was just trying to give her a little friendly advice.”

“Well, that's how she took it. Ever since, sometimes when we've got downtime, we get together. Turns out, she likes sex just fine,” he says, giving Sophie a half-hearted leer.

“Yes, alright,” she says, rolling her eyes. He chooses to believe that means she finds him charming. “If there's really no harm in it, than why has it been such a secret all these months?”

He'll never be as sharp at reading people as Sophie, the master grifter. But people tend to underestimate him: his friends, his enemies, his previous employers. Nate never has, which is one reason Eliot decided to throw his lot in with the man despite all his issues. But even Sophie sometimes forgets he's not stupid.

“That's what you're really mad about,” he tells her with quiet certainty, and smirks, sipping his coffee. “You're mad that we've been sleeping together and you didn't pick up on it.”

“I—what—no,” she stammers unconvincingly. Her acting never is any good when it's personal. “I'm just...worried. About you both, and the situation. She's trying to start up a relationship with Hardison, you know.”

“Really?” he asks. “About damn time.”

“You're not upset?”

“I told you, me and Parker are just friends. With benefits.” Really nice benefits, actually, and it'll be a shame to say goodbye to that, but what the hell. She deserves to be happy and so does Hardison.

“And you don't think Alec might be a little upset if they start dating and he finds out she's been sleeping with you all this time?” she asks a touch sardonically.

Eliot winces. “Okay, I see your point.” That had been the real reason, after all—the main one, anyway—why he's been keeping it quiet around the team, and asked Parker to do the same. For all that he enjoys razzing Hardison about how much more action Eliot gets than Hardison ever will, this is another thing. “There's no reason he ever has to know. I'm sure not going to tell him.”

“And, of course, Parker, with all her immense talents for tact and discretion, will certainly never let anything slip on the subject.”

Eliot grumbles, but he can't argue the point. “What're you suggesting, then?”


	2. Chapter 2

“Oh, I know,” Hardison says equanimously, after Eliot's awkward, stumbling confession that had been made with Sophie breathing down his neck.

“How did _you_ know?” Sophie exclaims, aghast.

Eliot only looks at him. Hardison looks perfectly calm, even a little smug at their reactions.

“C'mon, guys, it's Parker. I may have made a slightly inadvisable oral sex joke one day in the van and Parker let slip something about 'oh, yeah, I like it when Eliot does that,'” he says in a mimicking falsetto, accompanied by his usual theatrical gesticulating.

“Hardison!” Sophie exclaims in outrage. She whacks _Eliot_ in the arm with her bag, which is just unfair.

“Ow,” he exclaims, rubbing at the spot and glaring at Sophie, which she ignores. Why does this whole stupid thing mean he has to keep getting hit?

“It doesn't bother you? Even though Parker has feelings for you?” Sophie demands. For all that she lives an unconventional life, Sophie has some weirdly traditional ideas about romance.

“Nope. Never been the jealous type. In fact, it's kinda hot,” Hardison tells them. He definitely looks smug now.

Eliot raises his eyebrows.

“You're all impossible,” Sophie declares, tossing her hands in the air. She stalks off, muttering something about 'young people' and 'foolishness.'

“So,” Eliot asks once she's gone. He has to feel his way along carefully. “You don't want us to stop? Even with what's going on with you and Parker?”

“Nah, man, I don't even know what's going on with me and Parker. I don't think even _she_ knows. But whatever it is, it's gonna take time to work itself out. In the meanwhile, I don't mind if she's getting a lil nookie on the side.”

“Don't say 'nookie'. What are you, twelve?” Eliot scowls at him on principle.

“If y'all both want to, go ahead. Just don't tell me the details, alright?” Hardison tells him.

“You got it, man.”

*

It's not until much later that Alec changes his mind about that last part.

*

The team does jobs, and splits up, and gets back together. Hardison and Parker officially start dating. Eliot starts feeling a little pushed to the side, and tells himself that's only natural. He tells himself he should leave them alone, let them figure their thing out on their own without him around.

He doesn't leave. Instead, he gets roped into running the brewpub. They obviously need someone around to stop the whole place from going under. He moves in, and lies alone in his room at night, down the hall from the bedroom that Parker and Hardison share, thinking that this whole thing was a mistake.

Two nights later, he's shocked when he heads to his solitary room, only to find Parker lying naked between his sheets. She grins at him and flicks a corner of the sheet back in clear invitation.

For one moment he hesitates, thinking he should say something. But what would he say? She's clearly here because she wants to be, and it's not in Eliot's nature to deny a good woman something that she wants.

Instead of saying anything, he climbs into bed and kisses her good and proper. It's been months, but kissing Parker is still like latching the nock of an arrow onto a bow string, pulling tight, putting power into the draw. He'd nearly forgotten how strong she is—and how shameless. When she flips him over so she can sit on his face, he goes without complaint, and laps eagerly at her tender flesh. He's missed this.

The next morning, when Hardison comes down to breakfast, he offers his hand to Eliot with a grin and they do their little double-tap-and-fist-bump secret shake. Eliot smiles and plates an omelet for him. That means it's probably okay, he figures.

They never talk about it. Well, he doesn't talk about it with Hardison. He remembers the request to spare him the details. And even though Hardison and Parker are going on dates—and doing cutesy couple stuff, and sleeping in the same bed every night no matter what happens at other hours—the three of them seem to have found a delicate balance that Eliot is afraid to disturb. Parker, of course, never had the sense that God gave little green apples, and isn't afraid of anything she should be.

“Ooh, you're much better at that than Hardison is,” she tells him one night when Eliot has two fingers inside her and is working her clit with his thumb. He snaps his eyes to her face in surprise, but she has her head thrown back in pleasure and doesn't seem to have noticed that she said anything strange.

Another time she gets him naked and makes him lie back while she inspects every inch of his body the same way she explores people's spaces—with a total confident sense of ownership. That's pretty sexy, he could admit, but he's not as sure about the part where she compares his body to Hardison's in minute detail. “You're broader through the torso...his arms are longer...your nipples are bigger than his, his are tiny...you have bushier pubic hair...” Eliot just lets her go through her whole checklist, the flattering and not so flattering. When she's finally done he fucks her just how she likes it until they're both ready to scream.

Eliot has no complaints about his life, except that people on Yelp keep saying they want the brewpub to open for lunch, and that he's getting comfortable. Attached. Like the brewpub and the team are a safehouse, a soft place to land.

When he and Hardison hook up during a twelve hour stake-out, it could be a one-off inspired by boredom. If Eliot were being completely honest—which he seldom is by choice—he'd admit that it's not the first time he's sucked someone's dick in the back of a van. Military missions are mostly waiting, after all. But with Hardison it feels more like an inevitability than an impulse. He figures they've been building up to this for a long time, and the way Hardison kisses him afterward might mean that he's thinking the same thing. Parker yells at them for letting their guard down during a job, but it's easy to see she's pleased about it.

They stop the Spanish Flu together, and Nate and Sophie leave. By that time, the three of them have become a smoothly functioning whole, greater than the sum of their parts. On the clock they make the best team Eliot's ever been a part of, or even seen. In some ways, they're even better than when it was the five of them—leaner, more focused, more in control.

Off the clock they work together pretty well, too.

“You going to fuck her?” Eliot asks Alec. All of them are naked, on the huge ultra king bed upstairs that mostly gets used for sex and sometimes for Alec to sprawl out on when he's exhausted after missions. He's more or less sprawled across it now. Eliot's sitting up against the headboard, with Alec's back pressed to his chest. Alec is half in his lap, those crazy long legs of his spread every which way. Eliot is palming his dick and whispering in his ear as they both watch Parker.

Parker, who's kneeling, facing them, with her legs spread just enough and her hand between her thighs, is fingering herself. “Somebody better fuck me,” she says, in a tone both breathless and demanding.

“It's gonna have to be your boyfriend, then, darlin',” Eliot tells her, letting his hand speed up a little as he continues stroking Alec. “No encores for me tonight, I'm afraid.”

“Yes,” Alec says, groaning, his normally extensive vocabulary reduced to monosyllables.

“You sure?” Eliot teases.

“Ung,” is Alec's reply as Eliot gives him a nice tight stroke.

“I'm just saying, I'm not sure you really want to that badly, she might be better off with that big blue dildo she likes.” It isn't totally fair to Alec, since Eliot knows exactly what's going on. That whirling brain of his is overloaded. He gets this way sometimes, when both of them start in on him. He wants to keep watching Parker, to focus on the way Eliot was jerking him off, to fuck Parker, to replay the memory of sucking Eliot off ten minutes ago, and his head is probably running all kinds of crazy algorithms at the same time.

When he gets like this, all distracted and itching out of his skin, that's Eliot's cue to take charge.

“Come on over here,” he says to Parker, grinning. “Keep him occupied for a second.” He takes his hand off Alec's dick and leans over to grab a condom. By the time he gets it out of the wrapper, Alec's mouth is on one of Parker's breasts, mouthing at her nipple in just the way she likes, her hands gripping his head to hold him in place.

Eliot gets the condom on him. “Go ahead,” he tells Parker, and she slides down onto Alec's dick, real slow, until her hips are fit snugly against his, her knees around both their sides. Eliot pats her thigh where it's over his hip.

“I can't believe I used to think I wouldn't like this,” Parker says, idly, moving her hips in tiny circles while Alec clutches at her. “Sex is the best.”

“Well, you just needed to learn from an expert, that's all,” Eliot tells her.

“You _were_ pretty amazing,” she allows. And that's one of the best things about Parker. She always speaks her mind, which means she's rude as hell about sixty percent of the time. But when she gives a compliment, you know she really means it.

“I don't really need to hear about Eliot's magic dick right now,” Alec groans.

“You sure about that?” Eliot murmurs into his ear. “You sure you don't want to hear about that first time? How Parker just climbed onto my bed buck naked and spread her legs for me right then and there?”

“Huuhhhhhh,” is Alec's only response.

“It's true,” Parker chimes in, helpfully, continuing the torturously slow movements in Alec's lap. “And I didn't get why he wasn't taking off his clothes, since he'd already agreed to the sex, so I told him to get on with it.”

Eliot laughs. “Your exact words were, 'well, whip it out and let's go.'”

“Don't laugh while I'm inside you,” Alec pleads in a strangled voice, as Parker cackles. “That feels so weird.”

“I had to explain to her that there was a little more to it than just getting naked and sticking it in,” Eliot says.

“We covered kissing, and making out, and touching,” Parker recounts, like it was a school lesson. Which, Eliot recalls, was more or less what it had felt like at the time—like a dirty school teacher fantasy. Maybe they could revisit that sometime.

“She liked it when I touched her,” Eliot says in a low voice right against Alec's neck. “She hadn't had her clit touched in...well, ever. She got so wet, she practically soaked the bed.”

“It was even better than masturbating with the showerhead,” Parker exclaims, happily, finally starting to rise and fall in a steady rhythm.

“Y'all are killing me,” Alec says. He has one arm around Parker's waist and the other bracing against Eliot's thigh. It's a shame Eliot can't see his face from this angle, 'cause he'd bet it's a sight.

“Then he made me lie back while he got his head between my legs. The first time his tongue touched my clit I screamed. It was like falling from five stories without an autoblock knot.”

“She was thrashing around,” Eliot says fondly. “Had to hold her hips still with one arm just so I could get to work. Kicked me good a couple times. And the sounds comin' out of her mouth were unbelievable.” Alec whimpers between them. “She tasted so good. Seeing Parker lose control like that'll do things to a man. She came twice in ten minutes.”

Parker sighs happily and starts bouncing faster on their laps, finding a rhythm, even as she doesn't break her concentration. “And then, when he finally got inside me it felt, _oh_ , so good. It felt like being filled up totally, like he took up every inch of my body from the inside—in a good way. I'd never felt anything like that.”

“Parker.” It's Eliot's turn to groan, letting his head fall forward into Alec's shoulder.

“It was just like this,” Parker says, breathier, pistoning up and down faster, sounding like she's about to come. She usually gets talky when she's riding someone, and Eliot considers it an added bonus. “So good, just what I wanted. So good, Alec,” she says, and Eliot can see one of her hands moving down to touch herself, disappearing where her and Alec's bodies are joined.

“That's it,” Eliot says, “Good girl. Come for us.” It takes only a few more seconds, and Parker, making high-pitched little noises, comes. Her orgasms are always long, and this one goes on for a good ten seconds, with her jerking arrhythmically, muscles tensed, stroking herself. Then she lets out a huge breath and goes half-limp, sagging into Alec.

Alec, who still hasn't come, is twitching, breathing hard. Eliot can tell he's trying to give Parker time to recover, but he's trembling like a leaf, squeezing hard at Eliot's leg where he's still clutching it with his free hand. “Eliot,” he says, finally, in a voice tinged with desperation.

“Parker?” Eliot asks, reaching out to smooth her hair away from her face and tuck it behind one ear. She meets his eyes and hers are softer than they are anywhere outside of bed. “Alec needs to come. You okay if he finishes inside you?”

She wiggles a little, contemplatively, causing Alec to curse under his breath. “Yup,” she pronounces, climbing off and flopping over onto her back.

It takes Alec less than three seconds to climb over, put one of her legs on his shoulder, and slide inside her again. “Go on,” she says, encouragingly, running her hand over Alec's head.

It's Eliot's turn to do nothing but watch. Parker hardly seems to sweat, even during sex, but Alec's back is covered in a fine sheen down his muscled frame. Parker's legs are both up around Alec's ears now, and she's flexible enough to make it look easy. It gives Eliot the perfect view of Alec pounding into her. Parker's smiling a little smug grin, cradling Alec's head in her hand where his face is smashed into the bed next to her.

“You're beautiful, both of you,” Eliot says. Parker turns her smile on him and quirks one eyebrow. Alec's too far gone to probably notice anything that anyone is saying. His hips are stuttering now.

“So are you,” Parker tells him. “You're my two beautiful boys who both know how to fuck me just right,” she says happily, punctuating it by reaching with one hand to drag her nails up Alec's back in just the way he likes. Alec lets out a muffled shout against Parker's shoulder and comes, his hips straining against her and stilling.

Alec huffs out a loud sigh and stays in place for a moment before carefully pulling out and laying down on Parker's other side. That's the advantage of the huge bed.

Parker flips her legs back down and stretches luxuriously on the sheets. Eliot runs one hand over her sternum and down the side of her body until he's resting a hand across her on her hip. She lets him get close and lay his head on her shoulder, where she strokes her fingers idly through his hair.

“I don't know how I feel about storytime during sex,” Alec says a minute later. Even an orgasm like that can't stop him from complaining for long.

“We can stop if you want,” Parker offers. “But there are so many more good stories about Eliot teaching me sex things.”

“Yeah, man, you sure you don't want to hear about the time with the strap-on?” Eliot asks. That had been a hell of a lesson.

“Ooh, that was a good one. Maybe we could give him a live re-enactment while we tell him about it.”

Alec slaps one hand over his own face. “You're killing. Me.” he groans. But Eliot knows it's a yes.


End file.
